


comfort is not something he craves (a lie)

by edgaristheoneinthehole



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Chinese-American Tim Drake, Damian Wayne Is Legal (whatever you consider legal), Damian Wayne is Robin, F/F, Latina Stephanie Brown, Latino Jason Todd, M/M, Multi, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, also streets, but steph was never rly taught it as a kid so she doesnt rly know much more than the swears, damian is a huge snob about "ugly" words, damian will cry, despite what he claims. it'll be a spring wedding., helena will show up and ask babs out on a date. it'll be amazing., hinted ships include: dick/jay, i h/c jason is rly good at spanish as its his native language, kori/roy/jason, mostly old 52 but with kori/jay/roy still on a team, steph/cass is background but are said to be in a relationship, stephanie and cass are gonna get married in a very grand wedding.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 15:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6861664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgaristheoneinthehole/pseuds/edgaristheoneinthehole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The memories you keep with you are your comfort in life. What you learnt and what you chose to remember are your guides to who you are.</p><p>//</p><p>Some memories of Damian Wayne and the things he found comforting about them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	comfort is not something he craves (a lie)

**Author's Note:**

> im trying to get back into writing.  
> tumblr link: http://spyboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/144415906854

tim drake // compassion

 

It started with Drake, as most things tended to for the last few years, since their relationship had changed from _openly antagonistic_ to _petty, but caring._

Damian didn't have many nightmares ( _a lie_ ), but sometimes, when Drake walked past the room at 4 am -- after his patrol and after he _deigned_ to stay at the manor -- he heard _things_ from Damian's room and took the responsibility of waking him up on his shoulders. Or so Damian guessed. He couldn't bring himself to ask why Drake had decided to stop by the manor more often after the first few times, even when the patrol ended closer to his Gotham flat than the manor.

After Damian woke up -- after the instinctual struggle from waking up to being held down was over -- Drake smiled at him, while Damian stared at his smile highlighted by pale moonlight, and said some sort of greeting, ranging from, "hello," to "yo," which Damian didn't like, too ugly of a word, and Drake knew it. (The, "yo," days were the ones where the nightmares were the worst, the ones where Drake coaxed Damian back into a safer mental place in the way an argument about the English language, though Damian refused to give him _that_ much credit. He wasn't that good of a detective, despite what his grandfather said.)

After the greeting and/or argument, Drake rose, paused and took off his sweatshirt ( _another ugly word_ )-- hoodie, letting it fall to the ground, before leaving the room, not looking at Damian.

Wearing his hoodie is comforting, Damian admitted, but always made certain that, after sleeping, it ended up in the wash for Pennyworth to deliver it to its rightful owner.

(The nights where Drake didn't end up back in the manor, busy with the Titans or was off-world, Damian woke up drenched in sweat, heart beating too fast in his chest -- a comfort, he was alive -- and drew the plants in his room.)

 

jason todd // company

 

Drake and Grayson were rushing to save the world from another organization, while Damian was stuck in Gotham, both because of his duty as Robin and his sprained leg, gained in the rush to catch one of yesterday's criminals and falling incorrectly -- reckless, careless, _thoughtless_. His training meant _nothing_ if he did not use it.

Drake would at least be there to endure his bad mood, rolling his eyes _insolently_ the whole time, doing his paperwork in Damian's presence (rubbing it in Damian's face that he still did not have as big of a role in the company as he'd like, like the prick Drake was), but the rest of the family had long since decided that Damian in a sulky mood was something best to ignore until it went away. (Except Grayson, when he wasn't busy, as he tended to always be. Damian had accepted that.)

So he was stuck in his room, drawing again, when he heard sounds outside the window. He was not terribly concerned, certain that the manor's security systems, something he himself had helped on, were up to date, but he still moved his hand to the top corner of his bed, the side that was covered in small pillows -- decoration, sure, but Alfred was also fond of sleeping on them -- and, from below all of them, he brought out a sheath and the pocketknife inside it. Shaped like a batarang, of course. (Grayson had gotten it for his birthday and Damian hadn't had the heart to throw it out. Weapons were far too precious to do so.)

The sounds outside sounded like someone was climbing up, he discerned, but he couldn't imagine why anyone would want to climb in through his window. In order to get through the systems, they'd have to be quite the paranoid genius and his window was the most obviously boobytrapped. He had chosen it that way as a child, thought it'd be a way to throw off assailants, who assumed the non-obvious windows were then safe.

Now, he had realised, it looked like a fault in the system, a faux-trap, there in order for people to get inside safely. If it threw off assailants off his family, however, he found himself not minding, which was why he had never fixed it, despite everyone's concerns about it.

The person outside reached his window, then paused, probably working on the security system, and Damian was not surprised to hear a click of the window opening soon afterwards, his enemy was clearly well-trained, but he didn't attack, not even as a hand moved to open the window, to push it open.

If he risked throwing in the dark, not even talking about the risks of hitting something major in the near-dark -- which were minuscule, but there -- he couldn't risk frightening his assailant and either a) making them fall out of surprise, risking falling incorrectly and dying, or b) letting them get away without getting any information about how they got in. Both were bad options -- one would give him the scorn of his father, he was certain, despite the accident status -- and an indoors fight could be controlled to be safer.

However, as the person climbed in, they said, offhand, "If you attack me, _gilipollas,_ I'll punch you in the fucking dick."

Todd. Upset. He rarely slipped into his native tongue. Not near Damian, at least.

Damian hid the pocketknife below the pillows again, in its sheath, as to not accidentally injure Alfred, and replied, with as dry of a voice as he could manage, with _fear-anticipation-adrenaline_ still inside him, "I am not against your second death."

Todd snorted, oddly fond, before closing the window and starting to move towards Damian's bed, which he could not stand for.

"No shoes," Damian reminded him.

Todd looked at him before shaking his head and moving to unlace his boots. Damian eyed their steel-toes and wondered if they're stained red by blood or if it had been a design choice. He was never quite certain with Todd. "I do not care if you happen to be bleeding out, Todd, no one is in this room with their shoes on."

Todd laughed, the fake one that always grated on Damian's nerves -- Todd could do _better_ than that, he was an excellent actor -- but only spoke after the boots were off his feet and he had jumped on Damian's bed, truly proving that no one in the family was mature other than Pennyworth and Damian himself. He was willing to include Cain in that, despite her fondness of Brown, which gave her negative points. "How often do you have to tell Bigbird that?"

Damian eyed his sketchbook, knew Todd wouldn't leave him alone for the night, before he closed it and told Todd, "Grayson learns faster than you do."

He didn't mean it harshly -- he rarely did -- but Todd's eyes hardened, became cold, before he very obviously forced his shoulders to relax, to seem small, not a threat. Damian was not fooled, was able to see the sharp-edged anger in his eyes, knew that he was going to get cut by it no matter how the night went, as he had never learnt how to censor himself, how to seem less harsh and cruel.

Grayson and Drake would know what to do, he was aware, but he has never been like Todd or Drake, he has never tried to emulate his predecessors, despite his respect for them. He was aware he was different and he tried to make Robin into something only he himself was, not a role he must fit. It had been a work in progress for several years.

In order to be Robin, he must not lose himself -- that was what he had learnt from the Robins before him.

Todd was frowning at him, he realised, but he acted as if it did not bother him. He tended to be more forgetful after his death, more easily distracted, and he thought his family had yet realised the cause. They kept forcing him to go to bed earlier, so he was certain they thought it's because of the nightmares Drake doubtlessly told them about.

"Y'know," Todd said, carefully, nothing to be heard of the accent Damian had only ever heard once, when Todd was bleeding out, "I don't think I've ever told you about that time when I was Robin--" he paused, as he always did when he mentioned being Robin, unless it was for an insult, "and Dick had to give me _the talk_."

Damian was aware of what incident he was talking about, Grayson had told it to him as a 10 year old in an attempt to make him fonder of the man Grayson considered brother, but he didn't say that, despite wanting to, and instead answered, "I do not think you have."

Todd fell asleep at 4 am, taking up all the room in the bed, and Damian clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, before leaving the room and moving towards the cave to train. When he got back a few hours later with an untouched bottle of water, Todd was still sleeping. Damian was long enough in the room to leave the bottle in Todd's line of sight, before he left  once again.

(When he came back after school, Todd was gone, but so was the bottle of water, though he had left a note written in one of Damian's coloured watercolour pencils -- using too much pressure, the pencils were not made for it -- that said, "next time, little bro!" and had a crude drawing of Todd making the sign for 'fingerguns'. It was the first time anyone other than Grayson had called him _brother_.)

 

dick grayson // distraction

 

Grayson was fond of speaking, Damian had learnt. It had annoyed him as a child, but the more he grew up, the more he ended up becoming fond of Grayson and his endless chatter. He had became fond of all signs of living after his death. ( _Especially_ the ones in Grayson, _especially_ after thinking that Grayson was dead for a long while.)

Todd was sitting on his bed again, talking about Arsenal and Starfire and their attempts to raise Arsenal's child with Todd, when Grayson walked into the room, "Hey, Little D, do you have time--"

He had forgotten to knock again. It was a habit Damian was working hard towards trying to break him out of.

Todd and Grayson were arguing again, he knew, but he did not think that it was to such an extent that Todd would be outside the room in an instant, out the window he come, where Damian could hear him yelling, " _¡Coño!_ "

He threw Todd's boots down, to which there was silence, before he heard quiet mumbling -- better be a "thank you," -- and then the sound of running.

Grayson stared at the window, before helplessly turning towards Damian, running a hand through this hair. "I wasn't aware you were friends."

Damian frowned, thinking, before offering, "We are brothers."

Grayson, though surprised, sent him a bright smile in return for the confession. He was always so delighted at Damian admitting his feeling and, in Drake's words, "being a real boy." (Drake was the most dimwitted piece of rotten intestines Damian had ever met.)

"So he talks things through with you?" Grayson asked, somewhat desperately, and Damian got the feeling that he was walking in a minefield, blindfolded and wearing noise-cancelling headphones.

He could not ignore his brother's blight, however, could not ignore him, and said, "I listen," as the only thing he could.

Grayson nodded, not happy, but satisfied with what information Damian felt _allowed_ to tell him, before he smiled and said, "Tim is coming back today! As Tim Drake. And I'm going to pick him up from the airport. Want to come with?"

Damian paused, thought about it, before he ended up saying, "No," as he was certain that Drake would not favour his company first thing upon arriving in Gotham.

"You certain?" Grayson asked, smile falling as quick as it formed, proving to be fake, as Damian had thought, "Tim really misses you, you know."

"I am _certain_ he does," Damian put as much scepticism as he could into that sentence. "Be as it may, however, I am to help Pennyworth with his chores today."

"A few hours won't mess it up!" Grayson argued back. He was being strangely insistent. Damian did not like that.

"Grayson, what did you do?" Damian asked, long-suffering.

Grayson looked at him innocently for a few moments, before he groaned and hid his face in the cook of his elbow, head tilted back dramatically. "I promised Tim you would be at the airport."

"Do not make promises you can not keep, Grayson," Damian chided.

A long pause later, during which Grayson did not move, Damian gave in. "I will come."

Dick smiled at him brightly, before he practically skipped out of the room, calling out, "Half an hour!"

(Drake did, surprisingly, seem happy to see _both_ of them, even gave them a hug. Damian was certain his face was flushed. It was mortifying.)

 

cassandra // words

 

Cain -- dubbed "the best person in this whole family" by Todd, correctly -- did not do all of the annoying things that their brothers did, from breaking into his room at 2 am through his window to stealing his tofu burger (and then having the gall to _insult_ it? Todd _deserved_ that bruise), she was the proper sibling, the one his mother would have been happy to accept without a second's thought. (A lie, his mother was not quite the mothering stereotype the media liked to claim all mothers were.)

She was calm and thoughtful and Damian liked to think they had a lot in common. When she was in the manor, Damian always made sure to study or read in the library with her, to offer a companionship. She has not declined yet.

One of those days, when Damian was reading _"Pride and Prejudice"_ because of Todd, who would not stop recommending Damina books until he had read _something_ Todd liked, while Cain was reading a Chinese fairytale. It was Drake's mother's favourite book, the one he'd never allowed Damian to touch. Her book, while the same one, was not the same copy, however, as it was far too new and not at all worn-down around the corners. Damian's Chinese was much to rusty to read the title, which felt like an insult to his ancestors, and he told himself he'd try to reacquaint himself with it.

Damian wondered if Drake had recommended her the book, if he'd had that loving look in his eyes as he'd said that his mother, his ruthless, cold mother, had smiled affectionately at the thought of the book.

"Damian, you are lost in your head again," Cain told him, not looking up from her book.

"I am aware," he replied, frowning down at his book. Todd had odd taste in books. Romance had never something Damian was overtly fond of in media. He was even less fond of Todd giving him a book about a character whose major flaw was prejudice. It felt too much like a hint that he did not like who Damian was.

"What troubles you?" Cain asked, turning a page.

"Todd is-- complicated," was what he settled on, even if it did not explain the situation very well at all.

"Humans are," Cain agreed, smiling, but it did not feel like a mean smile, not the one Todd would have mocked him with for that sentence.

Damian didn't have anything to answer to that. He missed Colin, he would have explained the emotions in his chest that made no sense, even without Damian having to explain them.

Todd was human but so was Damian and they were both complicated, as they had the right to be. Damian just wished they didn't.

 

bonus: stephanie brown, barbara gordon // knowledge

 

It was the middle of patrol with Batgirl, when he heard her swear. It wasn't the swear that was unusual, the shouted, " _¡Qué se vaya pa'l coño de su madre!_ " was not even the worst he'd heard her scream while giving live-commentary to Oracle during battles, but the long pause afterwards was _very_ odd.

He went to check, only to end up almost getting hit with a batarang, it flying past him by half a centimetre.

He was going to punch her in the face. As soon as he figured out if she actually needed help or not-- there she was.

"That was actually kind of hard," Brown sighed, sitting on top of a body, zip-tied too hard; Damian was not certain if it had circulation.

Definitely unconscious and not dead, however, from the lack of blood.

She turned towards him, a smug smirk quirked, "A bit late, Batbro."

"I am not your brother," he told her, annoyed.

"Sure, you are! I'm gonna marry your sister and everything. Batbro-in-law!" he wished she was kidding. Sadly, she was not. The date was even set. Damian had been asked to be a flowergirl. He'd hit Grayson on the shoulder for even suggesting such a thing; he was much too old to be a flowergirl. He'd accepted the offer of ringbearer, however.

"However that may go," Damian eyed the body, the odd spots that did not look like bruises nor something one'd usually get from drugs, "I believe Oracle will find that interesting."

Brown nodded, not looking a bit surprised, "Yeah, called for the Batmobile to get us to the Cave already."

They did not have to wait for long, the driverless Batmobile arrived a minute later, at most, where they strapped the body to the suits in the back and hoped it wasn't terribly contagious, and let the car drive them towards the Cave.

Gordon was there, oddly enough, though Damian guessed that Brown had called for her. Why, he had no idea.

After they had secured the body in a specialized quarantine zone in the lab -- it was amazing how many times his father's paranoia paid off -- Gordon and himself started doing tests to understand if they should be quarantined as well. The answers came back negative, but Gordon did not feel comfortable leaving yet, as the effects could set in later. In the meantime, they had to get into civilian clothing, in case their clothing had traces, and it was Damian's job, as Gordon and Brown continued tests, to inform everyone who knew the location of the Cave to not come down there. It grated him, getting the menial job, but he swallowed the bitterness down, trying to stay away from the child he had been when he'd become Robin.

Getting in contact was the easy part, it was getting people to not rush into the Cave that made Damian grit his teeth.

"I have a programme for that!" Drake argued, very obviously still moving towards the Cave from the shifting background, had been as of 10 minutes ago, when Damian first informed him of the predicament.

"Send it to Gordon," Damian snapped back.

"I know it better! I can do it faster."

" _Drake,_ if you come here, I will cut off your head. With a rusty spoon."

"Spork," Drake mumbled.

"What."

"Spork would be more helpfully and, anyway, the most painful of the options is a dull knife--"

" _Drake_."

"I got this," Brown, for the first time in her life, was being helpful, taking the comm-unit from Damian, "don't you dare."

"But--"

"No," she said forcefully.

Drake sighed, very pathetically, before telling her, "Keep me updated," and ending the call.

Damian stared at the comm-unit, frowning, "He's still going to come here."

"Yep," Brown nodded, "but now he's going to bring donuts and waffles as a peace offering. So it's worth it."

Damian shot her a very dark look.

(By the time Drake arrived, they had already figured out the body was not contagious, but someone _had_ injected it with something. Damian did not forgive Drake for coming still. Even if he brought his favourite type of donuts.)

 

bonus ii: tim drake ii // affection

 

"I _am_ sorry," Drake offered.

"You are not."

"I am not," Drake agreed.

Damian, lying on his bed for the first time in 24 hours, felt his eyes closing, but he did not want to fall asleep in Drake's presence, especially as he did not know why he had followed him back into his room and why Drake was still sitting on the edge, the spot he always sat at.

"If you are going to stay here," Damian huffed, "at least lie down. Alfred has better manners than you."

Drake laughed, lying down in front of Damian on his side, so they were watching each other and Damian, if he so wished, could count the amount of lashes he had. It did not seem proper, however.

"I was terrified, y'know," Drake said.

"You were not."

"I was," Drake argued, but quieted at the look Damian gave him, amending, "I was scared for you. You three! Yeah."

"It is nice to know, Drake, that you have compassion like most human beings," Damian retorted sarcastically, but it did not sound all that serious, considering he yawned in the middle. His body was working against him.

"You're-- important. To me," Drake told him.

Damian blinked, vision hazy, "I am glad to hear that."

"Oh. Right. This is-- awkward," Drake muttered to himself, moving to rise up, only to find himself in a tight hold by Damian's arms and legs.

"Mine," he muttered sleepily, deciding that awake Damian could deal with the repercussions of that. He felt like sleeping at least ten hours.

**Author's Note:**

> spanish translations (i tried to keep to latin american insults/slang, but gotham is a fictional city, it can have any type of spanish slang/dialect, i assume) (also ive never learnt spanish in my life and i am sorry):  
> gilipollas -- jackass  
> coño -- damn it  
> qué se vaya pa'l coño de su madre -- he can go to hell


End file.
